


Murphy's Cops Law #9

by Python07



Series: Murphy's Cops Laws [8]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: Gen, Lestrade can't catch a break.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small fic based on Murphy's Cops Law #9: If you have "cleared" all the rooms and met no resistance, you and your entry team have probably kicked in the door of the wrong house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Murphy's Cops Law #9

I’ve been an officer for all of my adult life, yet my heart still pounds from the thrill of the chase. My heart beat against my chest and my palms were slick against the cool metal of my pistol. I checked my watch for the precise time as he instructed, took a deep breath, and nodded to the two uniforms with the battering ram. 

Within minutes, they reduced the cracked old wooden door to splinters. I barely looked inside before I was the first one through. I held my gun at the ready.

The rest of the officers poured in behind me. I peered into the darkness, listening intently, but it was eerily quiet. I took a lantern from one of the men and held it up. The yellow light cast ghastly shadows through the old house. The only movement was a spider moving along its web in the corner.

“Sir?” Sergeant Dawkins whispered.

“Check the rest of the house,” I ordered quietly.

“You heard the Inspector. Fan out, you lot.”

I checked the rest of the first floor and it was empty. I slipped my pistol back into my pocket. I stood in the kitchen. The doors of the cabinets were missing or rusted off their hinges. The windows were cracked and every surface caked with dust. A myriad combination of stains and mud covered the floor.

“I’ve got the boys checking upstairs but I don’t think we’ll find anything,” Dawkins said from behind me.

I heard the heavy footsteps through the ceiling. I sighed and turned to face him. “I think you’re right.”

“I don’t understand, Inspector. This is the correct address.”

There was a sudden noise and we looked to see a rat skittering against the far wall. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I know, but this cannot be the right place. It’s obvious that no one has been here in some time.”

Dawkins grunted. “Maybe he was wrong.”

I just looked at him. That just didn’t seem possible. I couldn’t remember it ever happening before.

“He is human after all,” Dawkins added.

I smiled ruefully. “I’m not that lucky, Sergeant.”

One of the officers I left guarding the door appeared. He cleared his throat. “Inspector, you had better come see this.”

I followed him. “What is it?”

As I passed the staircase, four officers filed down. “Nothing upstairs, Sir,” one of them reported.

I nodded and went out. I stopped short at the sight of them. I focused on the tall man. Far from his usual immaculate appearance, his baggy clothes were dirty and torn. His hair was out of place and there was a large bruise on his cheek. Despite this, there was a joyful glint in his eyes as he gave me one of his self-satisfied smirks. He held a young ruffian by the scruff of the neck.

Next to them stood three men. Two of them were dressed in the same kind of ratty clothes. Both had crooked noses and scarred faces, as if they’d been in their fair share of pub brawls. One had a split bottom lip while the other’s left eye was swollen shut. They sullenly stared at the ground.

The third man wore a regular suit. There was blood on his shirt, but from the way he ignored it, I could assume that it was not his. Despite the obvious fight, he was calm and collected and looked only a little worse for wear. He held the other two at gunpoint.

“You missed the fun,” the tall man announced.

“This is the address you gave us,” Dawkins answered sourly.

The man laughed and shook the young man. “This brigand is the reason you went to the wrong house. He switched the numbers.”

“Why that little…” Dawkins muttered darkly.

I held a hand up to silence him. “This cannot be the whole gang.”

The ruffian broke loose and tried to run but Dawkins was on him in a flash. Dawkins twisted his arms behind him and cuffed him. “Now, you’re not going anywhere.”

The man stood in front of them and looked him in the eye. “It is not, but I’m sure one of these men can be persuaded to tell us where the rest of them are hiding.”

He could not have been more than fourteen years old and the fear was plain in his face. Yet he still struggled and spit in his captor’s face. “I’ll tell you nothing, Mr. Holmes,” he snarled.

Holmes calmly wiped his face and turned to me. “Inspector Lestrade, I will leave these three in your more than capable hands.”

He did not sound condescending when he said that for which I was grateful. I was sure the Chief Inspector would have some choice words for me when he heard that we went to the wrong house. “Of course, Mr. Holmes. I’m pleased to see that you and Dr. Watson did not have too much trouble without us.”

Holmes waved that off. “There was a minor inconvenience. One of them pulled a knife on Watson. You’ll find his body in the second house from the corner.”

Watson let my officers take custody of the two men. “He did not leave me a choice,” he said with grim resignation.

I nodded. “I do not doubt it.”

Holmes nodded to Watson and they started walking away. “If you do not need us, we shall be off, Inspector. I shall leave the interrogation of these men to you.”

I arched an eyebrow. Holmes was always involved. “Very well.”

Holmes stopped but didn’t turn. “Oh, Inspector, I know how you are,” he said casually. “Take it easy on them. They will do us no good in the hospital.”

“Or the morgue,” Watson added as if it was of no consequence.

“True, Watson. Remember that last one who could not speak for a month after that highly unfortunately accident that broke his jaw. That was highly inconvenient.”

The two adult prisoners didn’t react but I saw the ruffian’s eyes grow wide. He stumbled when Dawkins shoved him towards the wagon. He kept looking back at me as if I was a monster.

I bared my teeth at him. “I shall do my best, Holmes, but I make no promises.”


End file.
